


Putting Down Roots

by yashkonu



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Light Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6716281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yashkonu/pseuds/yashkonu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Healing takes time, and trust requires courage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Putting Down Roots

**Warning for mentions of past abuse**

“All good?”

Emerald shifted in her seat, feeling out the limits set by Ruby’s careful handiwork. The knots held tight enough to deny any real movement below her neck, threaded around both her and the chair, but not so tight as to cut off circulation. She nodded once.

“Yeah. You're getting good at this stuff, Rubes.”

Ruby answered with a smile that could light up the room, her voice taking on a tone of exaggerated sultriness. “Flattery will get you _everywhere_ , Miss Sustrai.” The smile fell by degrees as she reached to cup Emerald’s cheek with a hand.

For an instant she tensed, the warm touch against her face bringing to bear memories of a harsher hand. She shut her eyes, pressed her cheek into Ruby’s hand when the moment passed.

“I meant it, Em. Are you _all_ good? Not the ropes, you. I know this can be… intense for you.”

“I’m fi-” Emerald paused, bit her tongue to kill the lie before it could leave her throat. This was all about trust, and trust had to start here, with her. “I… want to try.”

Pretending was easy. Emerald was _good_ at pretending. At some point in her life, someone -- maybe a parent, or the absence thereof, maybe a friend she’d trusted too much, maybe… _her_ \-- had flipped a little switch inside of her, and since then earnestness had been ashes on her tongue. And of course she would be one of those miserable saps with a _poetic semblance_ , like Blake.

She lingered on the thought of her faunus friend. It was strange to even think it, but they really were _friends_. Months ago, Weiss -- of all people -- had prodded her to consider opening up to Blake, just a little. She had, just a little, in her customary dancing-around-the-subject way, but those keen eyes had seen right through her. The pair had talked, then yelled, then sat together in silence. Then they had talked some more, softer and more honest. It had taken Emerald some time to get her head around the idea that someone could actually understand, _really_ understand.

She was drawn back to the present by the soft rasp of silk threading rapidly through Ruby’s fingers. A length of broad, black, carefully opaque ribbon; a gift from Blake when they decided they didn’t need it anymore. A gift and a message, a reminder that healing was possible. It danced through Ruby’s fingers, over and under, over and under, moving in sharp starts and stops. Ruby moved like a hummingbird, flitting and darting.

“I’m ready, Rubes.”

She started a bit, drawn from wherever she had been by the words. “R-right! Sorry, zoned out on you there, didn’t I?” Her smile returned with a quick shake of her head. “Safeword?”

Emerald scowled, looked down and away. “It’s not like I could forget; I get enough _practice_ using it.”

“Hey.” Slender, calloused fingers, gentle but insistent, hooked her chin and brought their eyes to meet. “That’s not something to feel bad about, alright? I know it can be frustrating when progress is… slow, but small steps are still steps. Okay?” Emerald nodded, almost imperceptibly, and Ruby grinned with a hint of mischief. “Good girl. Now, safeword?”

“ _Mistral_ ,” came the soft reply, just above a whisper. A brief, chaste kiss was her reward, as Ruby moved to bring the ribbon to Emerald’s eyes. “W-wait.”

Ruby paused, concern dimming the silver shine of her eyes. “What’s up?”

“I… it’s just… make sure I can hear you?”

A soft chuckle in Ruby’s throat, and the last thing Emerald saw was a rising grin on her face. “You got it, Em.” Dancing fingers brought the ribbon to a snug knot behind her head, careful not to catch her hair, and the contact vanished with one last kiss, this time to her forehead.

And then she was alone. Well, not alone, not really. A soft hum drifted through the room, and Emerald recognized a tune that had been on the radio during their last trip to Vale. They had bought clothes, which was still a little foreign to her. Somewhere along the line, she’d become the kind of person who paid for things with money -- and her own money, at that. Ruby had made sure to avoid the old bookstore, but the memory of the place still sat in the back of Emerald’s mind, a constant murmur of _remember when?_

Of course she remembered. Her wrists pulled against the soft rope holding them in place, seized by the urge to check for flecks of red under her fingernails.

Ruby got to the chorus, a few half-remembered lyrics mixing into her tune, and Emerald willed the tension from her arms with a slow, almost-steady breath. She mouthed along to the words, allowing herself a little grin whenever Ruby’s rendition of the song hopped the rails. Focusing on Ruby helped keep her mind from wandering too far down dark paths, and so she focused intently. She heard Ruby tug the fridge open -- and thought for a moment how strange it was that _she, Emerald Sustrai_ had a _refrigerator_ \-- then take something out and nudge the door shut again with a quiet _boop_.

Then Ruby drew a knife from the block, and the soft rasp of razor steel on wood cut short Emerald’s breath. Suddenly the ropes seemed to be strangling her, and the rush of heat that came with her rising panic felt like _fire in her gut_.

_Move move you need to move hide disappear escape not safe_

She could feel herself straining against the ropes and couldn’t bring herself to stop, that animal urge to flee robbing her of control. She was back at the White Fang camp watching some faunus kid who didn’t know what he had signed up for go down with a bullet in his skull. He just looked confused; he would never know he’d emptied his magazine at an unfortunate tree. She was back in the abandoned hotel they’d commandeered after _Cinder_ had bought with blood her first taste of fire. _Cinder_ was restless, Emerald was vulnerable. It hadn’t been the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. All she could do was brace for the blows, for the heat, for whatever _Cinder_ dreamed up next.

A soft, rhythmic sound tugged at her roiling thoughts, and the drifting scent of strawberries grounded her, just a little. She felt the word tugging at her tongue, the promise of freedom in an instant.

_Mistral Mistral Mistral Mistral Mistral_

She wanted so badly to be better, to overcome this like some big fucking hero. Tears pricked at her eyes beneath the blindfold. She wanted to be good enough, strong enough, _whatever_ enough to just get _over_ it already. So why couldn’t she?

_Mistral Mistral Mistral Mistral Mistral_

“M-”

Something cool and wet bumped against Emerald’s lips, and she started with a gasp.

“Oop, didn’t mean to scare you.” She’d been so lost in her own head she hadn’t even noticed Ruby’s footsteps. “Strawberry?”

And there she was. Like a beacon at night, like an anchor at sea, there was Ruby. Just like that, no strings attached. The tension pulling Emerald taut as a bowstring finally broke with a choked noise, as much a laugh as it was a sob. Her shoulders shook, and when her voice returned to her it was strained and quiet.

“I’d like that.”

It was delicious, cool and sweet.


End file.
